


At the Heart of it All

by GoodJanet



Category: Late Night Host RPF
Genre: Banter, F/M, Hotel Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay, Orgy, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: It's Jon's last day, and the Best Fucking News Team (past and present) wants to show Jon their appreciation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> From the newskink meme: Jon/any current and/or former correspondents of your choice, TDS gangbang with Jon on the bottom.

Jon had had to say goodbye to _a lot_ of correspondents tonight, during his final broadcast ever, and it kind of breaks his heart. He started crying into Stephen's lapels in earnest when all of them had rushed the stage, hugging, petting, and kissing him. It felt so _final_. And it was. It really was.

The goodbyes didn’t end there. Far from it. When they all back away enough to let him breathe— _"Did you forget I'm an asthmatic!?"_ —Stephen pulls him aside.

“We’ve all got something planned after this,” he says. “Will you come?”

The way Stephen says it gives him pause. Espcially with the way Nancy and Olivia are surreptitiously listening in.

“Come where, Stephen?”

“We pitched in for two suites, and—”

“ _All of you?_ ” Jon asks.

Stephen squeezes his hand.

“We want to show our thanks properly, and we knew you didn’t need another tie. So we chipped in for some nice rooms to celebrate.”

Jon cocks his head to the side. There was something Stephen wasn't telling him. But, overwhelmed by the entire day, Jon finds himself nodding. He can get the gist of what they want to do to him later. He gets a taste when Stephen gently rests his hand on the side of neck. 

“Good,” Stephen breathes. “Good. We’re gonna take such good care of you. You’ve earned it, Jon.”

Stephen explains the plan to him in the limo to the hotel.

" _All of you?_ " he asks again. "For me? I'm--You all know what I look like, right?"

Stephen leans in to kiss him, and that shuts up Jon right away.

"You absolutely don't have to," Stephen says. "But we all certainly want to."

And that, Jon supposes, is how he finds himself _here_ , like this, in a gorgeous, boarding on gaudy, hotel room. Stephen wasn’t kidding about them choosing two lavish, connected suites. It feels like almost no time passes between that moment of awe in stepping inside with his whole goddamn cast to being pressed into the middle of a king sized bed for what could be the second or fiftieth time that night for all Jon can tell. He’s pretty sure, however, that that’s Riggle’s cock fucking his ass while Sam and Jason took turns kissing him and stroking him off. He's also sure that after Jason, his throat is never going to be quite the same.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Jon. All these years, we coulda been doing this!”

Jon wheezes a laugh, grips the bed sheets.

“Hurry up and come already!”

“Shit,” Rob moans, and he sustains the syllable the entire him he fills up Jon’s ass.

Jon moans when he slides out. Rob smacks him on the ass before flopping onto the bed next to Sam. 

"Oliver!" Rob shouts. "Your turn, my man!"

The door opens again.

“Finally!” a British voice declares. “My time to shine at this utterly ridiculous fuck fest.”

“I’ve missed you, baby,” Jon jokes. “HBO feels so far away.”

“None of us are ever very far away,” John says, urging Jon onto his back and lining up. “Ready, Jon? I've never fucked my boss before, so you'l have to tell me if I cock it all up.”

God, they’ve all been treating him with kid gloves, so it's nice to have John bring some normalcy back. And _that_ thought, is enough to remind him that all of this was going to go away for good once the night was over, and he thinks his heart’s going to burst. He tries to cover up with some light dirty talk.

“Fuck yeah. I'm like a slip’n’slide down there.”

John chuckles and pushes in, bracing his hands on either side of Jon’s head.

“Fuck, how many of us have you had tonight, you floozy?” John asks, immediately pistoning his hips.

“Steve and Jason and Rob and Mo and Nancy and Olivia—fuck—Aasif and you…”

He trails off, trying to think and trying not to come at the same time. There had been so many, and there were still so many, and  _god_ , he'd just been surrounded by all of them for so fucking long that he doesn't even care how many of his people walk in.

“Sam rode your dick,” Jason says.

“Or is my pussy that forgettable, boss man?” Sam asks.

Jon snorts and giggles into John's ear at Sam's comment, and he feels John shiver against him. Jon's glad he got to experience that sensation before he left for good; it was pretty flattering. John shifts a bit then to look at the two married correspondents and roll his eyes in a way that he hoped converyed something like, "Kindly let me fuck this man in peace. Now is not the time to be making him laugh. That is _also_ my job right now." Sam grins evilly and gently rakes her nails from Jon’s stomach to his nipples. Jon moans, and John makes the classic I've-got-my-eye-on-you gesture.

“I couldn’t. I’d never forget you. God, I wanna come!”

“I can do something about that, you know. It’s why we’re all here. For you,” John pants, refocusing.

Jon reaches up and runs his fingers through John’s unruly moppet of hair. Jon's eyes are glassy and bright. John bites his lip.

“Gonna make me come on your fat dick alone, Oliver?” he asks.

And shit, maybe he'd been overly confident about his game earlier because now he's coming hard, issuing spurt after spurt of come into Jon as he grunts and hisses his completion. He watches it seep out around the edges of Jon’s hole. He was so full that removing his softening dick causes a loud squelching sound.

"You're an utter mess, Stewart," he breathes, almost reverently.

“That-that was—”

Jon doesn’t have the words, so John leans over Jon again and kisses him. On shaky legs, he climbs off the bed, and goes into the other room. Time to tag the next person in.

“How’re you holding up, Jon?” Sam asks.

“The only way I could possibly feel any better is if I actually got to come.”

“I can beat you off, if that’s what you want.”

"Or me," Jason chimes in, grinning like he was some kind of stud. Tonight, everyone kind of was.

"Well, when you say it all romantic like that..."

Jason snickers. Rob snores.

Jon suddenly thinks of Stephen. Somehow, it wouldn’t seem right to come for anyone else, and Stephen was going to be last, so…

“Just-just keep touching me, okay? I just—I need _something_.”

Sam starts stroking his dick, soft, short strokes that will do nothing but drive him wild, but it did feel good to be wrapped in her hand regardless.

John sends Wyatt and Ed into Jon’s room next, and Jon can only guess what they have in store. There had to be a reason they had decided to work together. When the blindfold and peacock feather comes out, Jon’s suspicions are confirmed. 

They let him rest for a while after that. Everyone leaves Jon’s room, and Stephen, still clothed, comes in with water and a wash cloth. Jon can hear murmurs coming from the other room before Stephen shuts the door and sits down next to him. It sounds like everyone was continuing the festivities without him. Jon cracks a tired smile at the thought.

“They’ve really been working you over, huh?” Stephen asks in a soft tone.

“Yes.”

"Everyone who comes back looks like the cat who got the cream."

"If anyone's gotten the cream," Jon says, sitting up gingerly, "it's me. I think I'm leaking."

Stephen resists asking to see. Just to see if he was okay. Just to check for tears. Just stick his fingers inside Jon to see how stretched and wet he was. Later, he tells himself. Later. Stephen swallows hard and holds out the glass of water for Jon. Jon takes the tall glass from Stephen and guzzles it down. It drips down his chin where it sluices down his stomach and into his pubic hair. His cock was still rock hard and an angry red.

“Jon, I can take care of that if you want,” Stephen says, long fingers reaching out towards him. “That looks painful.”

“Don’t!” Jon says, blocking him.

Stephen flinches as if he’d been struck.

“Jon?”

“Not—not yet, okay? I’ve still got Larry and Lewis left. I-I wanna save it for you, okay? For after.”

"Can you last that much longer, old man?" Stephen teases, trying not to let his anticipation show.

"Gonna try. Hard to do with you sitting right there."

"Imagine how I feel! Lets clean you up for the last two before we both explode." 

Stephen hands him the washcloth then, which Jon immediately begins using to wipe the come off his stomach, chest, and ass. Jon laughs.

“What’s funny?” Stephen asks.

“Can you, uh. Fuck. Can you get my shoulder blades?” Jon asks.

“Your _shoulder blades_?”

“Let’s just say Ed won his contest with Wyatt.”

“Sure, Jon. Let me just…”

It’s awkward. Jon’s a mess. A beautiful debauched mess, and _god_. Stephen feels his cock jump in his slacks.

“Should I send Larry in now?” Stephen asks when’s done.

“Yeah. Thanks, Stephen.”

"See you soon."

Jon reaches out to squeeze his hand and smiles. Stephen reciprocates before he gets up to get Larry.

“Jon Stewart, you are the very picture of ridden hard and put away wet.”

He climbs onto the bed, and Jon lies on his back and opens up his arms for his friend. Larry picks up Jon’s feet and puts them on his shoulders.

“Surprised you didn’t make a ‘once you go black’ reference, Larry,” Jon jokes.

“Well, I figured I’d show rather than tell, you know what I’m saying?”

Jon giggles. Larry’s easy-going attitude always put him at ease. Something big butts up again his ass.

“You ready, Jon?”

“Oh fuck,” is his eloquent reply.

Larry spends the next ten minutes pounding away, and Jon finds himself holding on for dear life. Where did he get the energy for this? If Jon could only get his bearings, he would ask his former correspondent. Larry comes with a roar.

“Holy shit, Lar.”

Larry pants and wipes his brow.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, man. Long time.”

Jon smirks.

“And?”

“And it was worth the wait,” he says kissing Jon’s forehead.

Well, that only leaves Lewis and Stephen…

Jon sees Larry high-five Lewis as they walked out and in respectively. The door shuts once more.

“Next time, we should get a suite with a revolving door,” Jon says.

Lewis rolls his eyes.

“Oh god. Here we go,” Lewis mutters.

Jon giggles again. Watching Lewis unload was always a treat. Jon had just never thought he’d ever experience that quite so literally. Everyone else had pushed and posed him like a doll from the get-go, but Lewis is merely looking at him with furrowed brows and a wide stance with hands on his hips.

“Well, how do you want me?” Jon asks.

“Jon, I am sixty-seven years old. I’ve been waiting here, what? An hour? Maybe two? Watching all these-these-these fuckin’ _kids_ go in and out of that door with the dopiest grins on their faces like they just got a shot of heroin and a plate of brownies. And I see you, sticky, wet, and messy like you feel into a vat of come and lube, which, I’m pretty sure, is a look few people can pull off, my friend. And now I’m expected to follow all those other performances? After watching everyone fucking fuck in the other room like it's the goddamn apocalypse!? I'm not doubting that it’d be great for me, Jon. I can't say I've ever desperately wanted to stick my cock inside you, but a mouth’s a mouth, and yours looks damn good right now. But I’m gonna have to pass.”

Jon, who had been biting his pillow as he watched Lewis rant, rave, and pace the room, finally lets all of his laughter out. Lewis was completely absurd! And Jon loved him for it.

“Come over here, you dope, so I can kiss you.”

Lewis doesn’t hide his grin from Jon, and he walks over to the side of the bed. Jon kneels up and pulls Lewis down by his tie for a long, slow kiss. Jon can tell he’s into it when Lewis digs his fingers into his waist and pulls him flush against his body. Lewis is hard too.

“I can take care of that,” Jon husks. “It’s why we’re all here.”

Lewis shakes his head.

“Nah, nah, we’re here for _you_. Though don’t think I’m not going to go home tonight and jerk off thinking about it.”

Jon snorts.

“Can you send Stephen in?” he asks.

“Sure, kid,” Lewis says, chucking Jon on the chin.

Jon sits down in the middle of the bed and waits for the door to open. He was immensely glad he had saved the best for last. He sits up straight when Stephen finally walks in.

“Stephen!”

“Jon,” he says, striding over the bed, “we don’t have to do anything, you know. I don’t want you to feel obligated or—”

“Stephen?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me ‘til I can’t remember the last sixteen years.”

Stephen smiles wide, relieved.

“You mean it?”

“Get out of those clothes, and I’ll _prove_ it.”

Stephen does.

Jon doesn’t last long, but that’s okay because now it’s just him and Stephen, and he can hear the sex noises in the other room, but no sound is better than hearing Stephen moan as they lie side by side kissing and touching and coming without any of the hurriedness from earlier. And they kiss and kiss and kiss because this was about Jon, but it was about Stephen too. And the tears he had been able to put off on set and during the office orgy suddenly flow freely. Suddenly, he's feeling everything at once.

“I love you, Jon. And I am so, so proud of you,” Stephen says, holding him close.

“Love you too, Stephen.”

Jon hopes that wherever the next sixteen years take him that Stephen would always be here, right at his side.


End file.
